Layl Rohe
by xheartmehorrid
Summary: [A semi twisty Rishid x young Malik ficlet] Malik dreamed of Rishid's blood flowing like wine.


LAYL ROHE

( a semi twisted young rishid x malik ficlet )

disclaim: you know the drill.

warning: MATURE THEMES. Earmuffs for the kiddies, thnx.

layl rohe : soul night/night soul. (arabic)

WAHID(1.)

The sand and grit which seemed to gather mysteriously in the dark burial chambers, presumably through the cracks in the walls, mingled with the blood and pre-cum that boiled down his thighs as Rishid rushed into his 'paradise spot' again and again, flaying his insides with the force of his thrusts, and moving within him like a relentless battering ram.

The thick, perfumed oils did little else than permeate the air; desert roses and spice and burial incense adding density to the already humid air-- like the human weight pressing insistently into his lower back or the rough fingers rooted heavy in his hair. The scented oils dispersed with his sweat and fast accumulated in hot, sweet-smelling beads of vapor on his neck and thighs. It flooded the air with a strong potency-- reeking with the wet sex smells of their ingenuous coupling.

The screams (his own, the drawn-out wails and tortured mewls) and rasping, burning breaths (Rishid's, the barbarian, gutteral purr of his throat) of their rough, inexperienced lovemaking echoed through the tombs. Their shadows-- scenes of furious, erratic movement sketched into the corners of his peripheral eye and splashed across the walls-- looking, as transfigured shapes, so much like snakes and jackals as they writhe, and so many tortured and debauchered souls succumbing to a single tangled mass of flesh. The physical force of his brother (not by blood, but by relation) invaded him with all the persistence of a mating bull; his heart pounding in time with the constriction of the spent passage, and his heartbeat-- almost dancing to the barbarian rhythms of an orgasmic drum, deep from within the foginess of wine and orgy and the DNA which raged forth from the surface of the genetic bath to bring the lust of their ancestors to the forefront.

The gods moved within their blood, so alive were they in them.

x

x

At last, a sound of worship burbled over the elder's lips before he fell, as if dead, on his lover, still clutching the rent hide and oily snarls of white-blonde hair with great possession as he flooded the scalded, throbbing insides of his Master's broken body with his vital essence.

"I worship you," He murmured. His words were laced with husk and spent desire-- a hot pant of spicy breath tickling his younger lover's ear. "Until the sun and sand have bleached my bones, I love you. Until all Egypt has been crushed under the sky or sinks into the sea, I love you. Malik. . .Malik."

He pressed his engraved cheek into his brother's engraved back. His breath unfurled uncurled across the wing-like shoulder blades-- a whisper on the skin.

Content, Rishid slowly pulled himself out of the much smaller body, holding the trembling boy against himself. The passions of their first intercourse ebbed and flowed within him; burning holes into his memory forever on, and whispering sweet dreams of love and sodomy into his ear.

Malik, on the other end, felt desecrated. Burned; razed to the ground and not spared anything. Nothing sacred remained.

He turned on his side to ease the bubbling new pain between his hips. It was a fresh pain, insistent, and so he squirmed, but found himself held firmly in his place-- unable to wiggle himself free and soothe his virgin suffering.

He was constricted by the heavy, sated arms that tucked themselves around him; raped and haunted and adored by the irridescent, hooded eyes, at once vivid and melancholic, as they darkened and succumbed behind the moist lashes and drooping lids of his _erastes. _

He tried so hard to keep his heart and mind from violence.

He moved, soft and discreet, so that he lay back, pressed against his brother's chest. His beating, drum-like heart was the sole sound of reassurance as he nuzzled deep into the lean muscles and bronzed plates of Rishid's flesh-- sensitive to every breath against his neck and every brush of moistened lips tickling a strand of flaxen hair.

He tucked the sunned forearms further around his little waist, holding a large palm flat against his belly, blossoming then with dull, internal pain, so that his fingers twined lovingly with the larger set, and the gentle hand's presence against his abdomen fast sucked the ache away. He sighed and drifted off at last to sleep.

ITNAYN(2.)

That night Malik dreamt of Rishid's blood flowing like wine. All the starlight going out of his eyes; all the moonlight. And he dreamt of feeding him into the tempest currents of the Nile, ignorant to the cries and complaints of his drowning brother as the waters absolved him and at once washed him clean.

The smile that he smiled then was strange and secretive, as unencumbered as the half moon blushing high within the smoky desert sky.

At a distance, someone looked on from the river bank-- unmoved save for a certain detached, morbid amusement, shining outward from their terrible violet eyes; the mirror gemstones of his own.

And then they laughed from deep within the cover of the darkness.

* * *

Finite


End file.
